


memento mori

by far2late



Series: ilomilo [23]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Ending, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, BAMF Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF), Blood, Blood and Injury, Canonical Character Death, Character Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Exiled TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Fluff and Angst, Hopeful Ending, Hurt, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Hurt/Comfort, Insane Wilbur Soot, Manberg-Pogtopia War on Dream Team SMP (Video Blogging RPF), Manipulative Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Memory Alteration, Memory Loss, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Moral Ambiguity, Older Siblings Wilbur Soot and Technoblade, Pig Hybrid Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Pre-Manberg-Pogtopia War on Dream Team SMP (Video Blogging RPF), Ranboo Angst (Video Blogging RPF), Ranboo-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Sad Wilbur Soot, Some Fluff, Unsympathetic Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot Angst, Wilbur Soot and Technoblade and TommyInnit are Siblings, Wilbur Soot is Floris | Fundy's Parent, eventually
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-23 00:20:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30047016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/far2late/pseuds/far2late
Summary: "It was a bit cocky to say that all the blame was on his end. Wilbur was nothing if he was a hypocrite, and he wouldn’t be the one to concede and say he was evil in the story that had been spun. Wilbur was a leader, he was a revolutionary, he raised a hero and he kept him by his side for as long as he could. He was someone who had kept his honour about him and one who would double down on his love for L’manberg.Was it too much to say that it was his love for L’manberg that had gotten him kicked out in the first place?"orwhen techno comes to help pogtopia, he brings one guest with him. things change because of this.
Relationships: Ranboo & Technoblade, Ranboo & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Ranboo & Wilbur Soot, Technoblade & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Toby Smith | Tubbo & Wilbur Soot, Tommyinnit & Tubbo, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Series: ilomilo [23]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2095689
Comments: 41
Kudos: 416





	memento mori

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [memento mori](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/776646) by crywank. 



Everything falls apart eventually. It’s something that everyone has to come to accept eventually, as nature knows that there’s one path of course to go. From birth to death, the only constant in every human’s life is the inevitable end they face and the roads that shift and turn on their way there. Whether they were a man, old and in his prime and ready to lay down his life for what he believed in years ago in a war long gone, or a baby who took its last breaths on its mother’s chest with a life far too short for everything it should have accomplished. 

For Wilbur, this end came far too soon and it came about in a way that took his nation and his spirit with him. Everything falls apart, and to Wilbur, L’manberg was everything. L’manberg was home, it was comfort. It was everything that made him happy and everything that made him feel like he had a purpose. What was a nation without a leader? What was an army without someone to lead the charge into battle? What was a revolution without a revolutionary?

There were so many questions like these that Wilbur had begged to answer, so many that he had filled the role for. There were things like these that haunted him in the latest of nights and made him feel as though he were breaking down on the inside every time they circled back a second time. It did no good to think about what had gotten him where he was. It did no good to think of Tommy and Tubbo, bright-eyed and spry and happy before he had pulled them into battles they didn’t deserve. 

It was cruel to think of Sapnap, the kind-hearted blaze born who made an effort to cool his touch so he could high-five Tommy and make fun of Fundy and ruffle his hair in a way that would have made Wilbur’s heart squeeze in his chest painfully. It was cruel to think of George, quiet and snarky and sleepy being reduced into a marksman against the people he had braided grass alongside with. It was cruel to think of the man who had laughed with Tommy and filled him with such blind rage that he had decided that the only course of action was to go against him and declare independence. 

It was a bit cocky to say that all the blame was on his end. Wilbur was nothing if he was a hypocrite, and he wouldn’t be the one to concede and say he was evil in the story that had been spun. Wilbur was a leader, he was a revolutionary, he raised a hero and he kept him by his side for as long as he could. He was someone who had kept his honour about him and one who would double down on his love for L’manberg. 

Was it too much to say that it was his love for L’manberg that had gotten him kicked out in the first place? 

Wilbur loved the walls of L’manberg, he loved the safety they gave him. He loved the grass that lined the van and he loved the van he had found amid the trees like it was a diamond in the rough. Wilbur loved the citizens and he loved Niki’s bakery and he loved the way that she managed to make the room light up when she entered. He loved the way Fundy would learn the lay of the land and come back to him with a happy smile in his crayon suit. He loved the way Tommy and Tubbo would fool around in the reeds by the lake, which was made up of what looked like the elixir of life that had stolen the sky and laid it at their feet. 

Wilbur loved L’manberg and Schlatt noticed that. He noticed the devotion that the man had for the flag and the way he wore his suit with more pride than he held himself with. Schlatt must have noticed the way that Fundy was slowly pushed away for his right-hand man, and he had to have noticed the way that Niki was willing to run against him. Schlatt must have noticed something that Wilbur didn’t and that something was what had made the people of the country he loved so much turn against him. 

The rain had slowly soaked through his suit jacket as he ran away from the Netherite-clad figures that ran after them with little to no hesitance in their footsteps. They were loud against the forest floors that Wilbur had learned until they stepped into unfamiliar territory and the horror that came with realizing he had been kicked from the only place he could call home froze him in his place, even just for a moment. Wilbur’s lungs burned and his legs were sore and an arrow struck him in his back with a _thunk_ that had Tommy screaming his name through a ringing in his head that wouldn’t stop, couldn’t stop, would never- Would never- 

Wilbur awoke with blood in his mouth, panic in his lungs, and an ache in his chest as the feeling of his world crashing down around him filled him once more. It was the same hopelessness that infected him when he had first been betrayed by Eret. Maybe it was Eret’s fault, maybe it was his fault that he was so far gone that he could barely remember his name and was being chased out of the only country he ever loved. The only thing that ever loved him back, with her strong walls and gentle winds and cumbersome protection. 

He stumbled away from where he had respawned, away from the walls he called home and away from what he knew he needed the most. Wilbur was nothing if he was a hypocrite, and he knew that Tommy needed him more than he needed L’manberg. Tommy was more important than L’manberg because Tommy was what made the piece of land home, was what made Wilbur fall in love with the blades of green grass that would tickle his skin when he laid against it, fingers pressed into the mud. 

The trip back to where Tommy had gone was slow and hard, it was tiring and his soul felt weighed down by the mere thought of trying to do it alone. Tommy was far and he was safe so there was no reason for Wilbur to message him for help, only for coordinates that he was quick to offer. The teen was a blessing in disguise, the light at the end of the tunnel where Wilbur knew he would thrive. He lived for Tommy and Tommy lived for him and Tubbo and everyone else he found such a deep connection with. 

Tommy was lively, he was bright and young and happy and he had seen war and killing and died once himself. He knew blood and he knew pain and he still laughed and smiled with Tubbo as though nothing were wrong. Wilbur wondered if it was something to be said about denial and the way things could be bottled up so easily, but the man was nothing if he was a hypocrite, so he kept his mouth shut and screamed into his pillows at night. 

Wilbur was pretty sure that he wouldn’t be able to bring his pillow with him back to wherever Tommy had decided to run off to. He wasn’t sure why that was what he had decided to latch onto, why his mind found that to be something important worth remembering. Surely there was something to monologue about when it came to the citizens and his son and the people there, but all Wilbur could think of was how his pillow, sitting on top of his bed back at home in the cabin that he had spent little time in, was left abandoned on the mattress that had navy blue sheets on it. 

He could imagine the feeling of his hand slipped under it, the cold slowly warming as his body heat seeped into it and his tears seeped into the case as though it were a tissue. Wilbur’s heart clenched and wasn’t there something to say about countries and people and loyalties there? All Wilbur knew was that his heart had been ripped out of his chest and the hole that L’manberg left was one that he would fill, whether Schlatt liked it or not. 

When Wilbur arrived back at the coordinates that Tommy had given, he was greeted by a trembling teenager who immediately threw his arms around Wilbur like he was dying, which was a very real possibility for the situation they were in. Tommy had dug into the side of a small hill, blocking off the entrance with a mound of dirt that he shovelled away to make space for Wilbur. The man walked in on shaky legs that he didn’t realize made him feel like he was going to fall over until he tried to put weight on them the way he did when he stood strong and tall on the Black stone walls he considered home. 

Surely something was to be said about loyalties. About dying flames and poets and how the world unravelled in one sentence and the way people were the foundation of everything. Surely there was something to be said in a world where one man in power could take away the citizen’s love for the man who led them into victory. 

All Wilbur knew for certain was that he was tired, and no metaphors could drag him out of the slump that made him stumble into the bed that Tommy had led for respawning and setting a point for him to come back if he died in an inconsequential way- Which was funny to think about. Having been killed off in a manner so unimportant that even though it tore you apart on the inside and caused you as much pain as anyone else, it didn’t count. 

It was funny, in a sick sense. In a sick, Wilbur Soot way. 

“Wilbur?” Tommy asked, pulling him from his thoughts, the teen sitting cross-legged on the dirt in front of him. It had been hastily dug up and more dirt still crumbled from the ceiling in little sprinkles that didn’t give him much confidence in the case that it would collapse in on them and leave the two struggling to dig their way out of a mound of dirt they would choke on only to respawn where they were before. Unless it was important enough to warrant a visit to the infinite void that was death. The Station, Wilbur liked to call it. 

“Yes, Tommy?” He answered, voice clear despite the way he felt like he had swallowed bits of dirt and gravel on his way there. It was like the blood he tasted in his mouth was nothing, despite the stinging of his tongue that confirmed it had been there once. 

“What are we gonna do from here? What do we even- Where do we-” Tommy wasn’t as loud as he usually was, but there was frustration building in his voice that the man had recognized in his slow build in volume. There were layers to Tommy, layers that had to be peeled back delicately when the teen let himself vulnerable enough to let someone close. Wilbur was one of those people, and he could see shiny eyes in the dark hole they had claimed as their home for now. 

“We…” Wilbur looked outside, tiredness rolling in his bones as he stared out into the rain. He blinked and saw a spectre in the distance before it disappeared. Wilbur stood up from the bed, wiping his hands on his pants mechanically. Tommy got to his feet in unison, wiping the dirt off his pants. 

“Wilbur?” He asked, his voice contemplative. The man looked out the door before walking out properly, Tommy following. 

“Reconnaissance,” The mouthy word fell out of Wilbur’s lips as though this was another half-assed mission against Dream. Everything was blurring together in an ugly way as the man moved mechanically, arms swinging as he held himself up high. Tommy scrambled after, waiting for him to speak. Like he was a godsend in this nightmare. “We have to know what the enemy is up to before we figure out a plan. I just- I- I can’t believe, I can’t believe they-” 

Wilbur cut himself off before he finished the sentence. He couldn’t bear to say the words, he couldn’t be the one to acknowledge that he had been purged from his country. 

“They fucking- they fucking _exiled_ us!” Tommy burst out, rage exploding from the seams as though he had been waiting for Wilbur to say something before committing to his emotions. “They fucking just- Tubbo just _watched!_ They watched like we were nothing like they were waiting for us to get kicked out and like- Tubbo, Tubbo betrayed us, he- _Tubbo,_ ” Tommy’s voice cracked at the last word, Wilbur’s heart aching as the rain pattered against his hair, soaking it through. 

“I know it’s upsetting, Tommy, believe me, it was- L’manberg is my home. But we’ll get it back, I’m sure Tubbo doesn’t want to be there. He just wasn’t given a chance to get away, that’s all. There’s nothing more to it, Tommy, don’t stress too much. It’ll be fine, we’ll be fine. We’ll take it back, Schlatt’s just a fucking-” Wilbur’s words stumbled to a stop as the pair of them made it to the edge of the forest, across a river that showed them a view of their lands. 

People were swarming the stands and people who were dotted by the walls. There were holes in the walls that protected L’manberg that weren’t supposed to be there and they were intimidating, something that was unnatural. Like a fish out of water and blaze out of the Nether, they were things that didn’t make sense, things that didn’t- 

They were picking away at the walls, Wilbur realized with a dry mouth. Cutting away at them like they were nothing and like they forgot what they stood for. It was like they forgot the sacrifices made to earn them the right to put those up and for that, Wilbur wanted to cry. Wilbur wanted to cry for that, but his vision only blurred when he spotted a familiar tuft of orange fur in a black coat mining at the walls happily. 

Wilbur stumbled back, taken aback by what he was seeing. Tommy was in a similar state, though much more lucid than Wilbur could afford to be so close to enemy lines. What was the point of having an enemy that lived in your home, though? What was the point in fighting for- What was- 

“L’manberg, my unfinished symphony,” Wilbur murmured, echoing in the trees as a cry rather than the defeated statement it was in his head. “My home, my country, my- The walls, Tommy.” 

Wilbur was blank, he was devastated, he was unfeeling, he was breaking apart on the inside, he was- What was to be said about the citizens who kicked out the leader that gave them their home and pull down the walls they benefited? What was he to say to those who knocked away the walls he would rest against and stand on after long days? What was to be said of the walls that would give them a pleasant view of the sunset at the very top? 

Wilbur had nothing to say, and L’manberg said nothing back to him. She was silent as was Wilbur, and for a moment, he wanted to embrace it. 

And then, a hand rested on his shoulder and pulled him back, gently and surely, and Wilbur let it pull him to his feet and walk away from the display. Shuddering breaths echoed in the forest and it took him a moment for Wilbur to realize he was still breathing. 

* * *

Pogtopia was fucking cold. It was cold and cold and cold and the stone walls that had made up the ravine they stayed in were rough and claustrophobic and Tommy despised them. It was always small spaces that the teen had found himself wary of. Ever since the Final Control Room, the duel with Dream, everything that made him feel like he had been getting crushed under the weight of the world. 

Maybe it was just the fact that he had lost the openness that L’Manberg had favoured and liked so much. It was the blue sky and the sun and the breeze that had tickled his hair that Tommy found so freeing. He was one for being out in the open where nothing was holding him back and he could smell fresh grass as well. 

Pogtopia was in the ground, dug down until they could smell nothing but stone and coal and everything bad. The walls were made of stone and it was dug out into a ravine by iron pickaxe they could barely use in the first place, falling apart in their hands. Tommy was the one who did most of the work in the first place, Wilbur near catatonic as he sat upon the bed and did his best to pretend what was happening around them wasn’t happening at all. 

Tommy wished he could be angry at him, be mad at the man for being useless while he spent ages trying to dig out into their new home, but there was nothing but worry and sadness in him as he watched his brother try to keep it together. 

Wilbur was always seen as the leader of their nation. He was a soldier and someone who Tommy could always rely on. Wilbur was everything right in the world and Tommy would follow Wilbur to the ends of the Earth. He already had once, when they were young and Wilbur cried almost every night when he thought Tommy couldn’t hear him through the walls. When they had birthday parties all alone and sitting outside on the porch waiting for Phil was a pastime. 

Tommy never mentioned it to Wilbur in words, but he was always there to wrap an arm around his shoulders when he needed it and patted him on the back on nights that were too dark and too much and not enough warmth for it to soak into Tommy’s bones comfortably. The cold would bite at his nose and turn his ears red at the tips in a way that made him shiver. 

The man was always there for him and Tommy would stay by his side in return, but when did it become too little to help the people he loved? When were quiet touches and happy memories something that would do little to help and more to hurt? When was Tommy not enough for Wilbur to help and when did he start focusing more on L’manberg to make him happy? 

Of course, it was easy enough to say he was overexaggerating. That he was just being fatalistic and that there was nothing to worry about. That Wilbur would go back to normal in just a few days like nothing had gone wrong in the first place. Tommy was nothing if he was naive, though, and he knew this problem wouldn’t be so easily fixed. 

In the meantime, he busied himself by cleaning out the ravine they had dug into, eventually dragging Wilbur into helping as well. The man got up, almost with an exaggerated rejuvenated look as he made his way into the little tunnel down that Tommy had carved out. Tommy cut down the vines that grew from the cracks in the rocks and crawled down into the floor. It made the ravine look more claustrophobic and Tommy despised it. 

Wilbur had done most of the work smoothing out the walls, making sure that they wouldn’t jab someone should they get pushed into them. Tommy was the one who had complained about them, and Wilbur, in his usual fashion, was the one to fix it while jabbing at him lightly about how he was a big whiny baby. It was a bit of normalcy that Tommy craved while in a cold, mostly dark cave that was lit up crudely by torches. 

Wilbur had rambled about what he would do to fix it up, however, seemingly out of his stupor after the second day that he had spent in bed. Tommy was silently glad that he wasn’t completely gone after seeing the walls being torn down by both Tubbo and Fundy after the two had promised to stay by their sides. 

Tubbo. Tubbo was… Everything about Tubbo was complicated to Tommy, the teen thought, fingers running down the stone walls of Pogtopia. He shivered as the cold overwhelmed him again, though he was pretty sure most of it came from thinking of the brown-haired teen once more. 

Wilbur’s words echoed in his head once more, the reassurances that the teen must not have meant it, that his hand was forced and that he wasn’t a traitor like Eret. It was hard, though, it was hard to look at the kid he had met and connected to so closely and remember that he wasn’t going to turn on him at the drop of a hat like Eret did. Eret was someone he had always trusted, someone he looked up to for quite a while before he had been the one to stab them in the back and take away one of his lives. 

It was hard, really, and it was harder to deal with the fact that the second-place he ever called home being taken over and getting rid of him and one of his _people._ His home was L’manberg with Tubbo and Niki and Wilbur and Fundy, and he hated himself for thinking that Tubbo would be the one to betray him from the group. 

Tommy stood from where he was sitting, going up the stone stairway that Wilbur had constructed a few days before and made his way up the top, opening up the dirt that trapped them inside and breathing in a breath of fresh air. The sky was dark and night shed a blanket on the world that they had claimed as their own. Maybe there was something to be said about humans and the claims they would put on everything that they saw. Maybe there was something to be said about selfishness and learning to deal with their problems in a way that didn’t monopolize the Earth, but Tommy didn’t want to have that conversation. 

He bent his fingers lightly as he made his way up to climb the little hill Wilbur had climbed onto, his legs swinging against the wall. They made rhythmic thumps that Tommy found comforting, settling down next to him. He moved to lean on Wilbur’s shoulder in a move uncharacteristic to him. Wilbur didn’t comment on the rare bit of vulnerability, simply wrapping an arm around him and patting him on the shoulder gently. He rubbed his arm after and the movement nearly made Tommy cry because of how it reminded him of simpler times. 

When one of their worries wasn’t being kicked out of a country they loved. 

“Do we have a plan yet?” Tommy asked Wilbur, his voice a bit too low. Wilbur hummed, the sound sending vibrations through Tommy that reminded him of listening to the man hum to him as he fell asleep. 

“Not really,” Wilbur said, his voice clear as it always was. Tommy nodded slowly, sitting up a bit and pulling away from the man. His arm fell to his side, but the teen held out a hand to him and let him curl his fingers around his. 

“Should probably get on that. What do you think the first call of action should be?” Tommy asked, trying to get more serious. Wilbur took in a sharp breath, Tommy looking over at him. 

“...I’ve written to Techno.” The words were said with finality as Tommy froze upon hearing them. He turned to face him, eyes wide as he looked at Wilbur. It took a moment for his surprise to melt into anger, but when it did, it was hard to reel Tommy back. 

“Wilbur-” 

“I know, Tommy-” 

“ _Wilbur,_ you know that he-” 

“I _know,_ Tommy!” Wilbur snapped, looking angry for a moment before melting back into weariness. 

“I know, but we can’t… completely blame him. And we need help. Besides, it’s been a while. Maybe he’s less of a prick now.” The last bit was said jokingly but it fell a bit flat. Tommy took in a shuddering breath, hesitating before speaking. 

“Did you mail Phil?” Wilbur froze at the question before something behind his eyes started burning. 

“No. And I won’t, not anymore,” He said, his voice nearly a snarl. Tommy startled at the words, looking at him with a bit of a tilted head. 

“Anymore? D’you mean-” 

“He never replied, Tommy,” Wilbur said, angry as he ran a hand through his hair. “I thought all those years ago when we ran away he would be just a _bit_ worried, but no, he never answered my letters, why would I send them now? For him to scold me about getting kicked out?” Tommy felt speechless, opening his mouth to try and figure out what to say. 

“Wil…” The man sighed, leaning back before staring up at the sky. 

“I’m sorry, Tommy, I shouldn’t have gotten mad. I should’ve… Sorry, man.” Tommy nodded slowly at the apology, wringing his hands in his lap. 

“It’s fine, Wilbur, I trust you. If you think we need Techno, then I’ll be the first fuckin’ person getting him from spawn, yeah?” Wilbur laughed a bit at his comment, sitting up with a grin on his face that reminded him of the first days that L’manberg had been started up. 

“Glad I have you by my side, you little gremlin,” Wilbur teased, dropping off of the small hill and turning back to the small dirt hole that led back to Pogtopia. Tommy grimaced a bit as he saw the man enter the small area, following after him reluctantly. The man seemed not to have picked up on Tommy’s mild distress, making his way down with more energy than before. 

“I think I might work on the ravine a bit,” Wilbur said, going down the stairs as Tommy dutifully followed. “Thinking about putting some ledges in, hanging some lanterns, making little rooms. Maybe even a little room for us to sleep that’ll be bigger than the dirt thing we have up there-”

“I’m fine with it,” Tommy interrupted him a bit crudely. “Sleeping up there, I mean. I’m cool with it.” 

Wilbur paused at the words before nodding slowly. “Right, if that’s okay with you. Pogtopia’ll be great, Toms.” Wilbur punctuated the words with a smile, but Tommy was nothing if he was naive, and a sense of dread slivered up his spine. 

* * *

The day that everything came to a head was ironically the only day that nothing had been going on all that much in the first place. 

Wilbur and Tommy had settled in properly to Pogtopia, Tommy doing his usual duty to make things as normal as possible by being as _Tommy_ as possible. He made an effort to act the way he did in L’manberg, almost ignoring the glaring problem staring them in the face. When he did think of it, it was often with anger that Wilbur would find a bit cumbersome after a while, having to tune out his long ranting. 

It was a bit indicative of the two and how badly they were taking something like this in the first place. Wilbur was pretty sure that they needed to do more than expand Pogtopia and work on what they had, but he didn’t know where to start. A good place to start from would be trying to figure out Tubbo’s intentions, but the teen had been refusing calls on his comms almost fervently. Tommy had grown disheartened at the response at first before he shifted back into angry apathy. 

Wilbur found it suspicious despite that, messaging the teen privately when he could asking for him to talk to them as soon as possible. It had been less than half a week since they had gotten exiled, after all. Surely there was some time that Tubbo had to himself, something that he could do that wouldn’t lead to anything bad happening the moment he picked up their calls. 

His answer to this predicament came in the early morning when Wilbur was sitting up in the treetops, watching the sun slowly rise. His lungs weren’t built for coal and stone, the man had decided, taking the time to spend a chunk of his day above ground despite how easy it would be to retire himself to the cave. Tommy was still asleep downstairs, away from Wilbur and whatever melancholy he would let show on his face away from the teen. 

He leaned his head back as the breeze picked up, letting it sift through his hair in a familiar tune before he felt his pocket vibrate. For just a moment, he was ready to hang up as he would do in the early mornings of L’manberg before he realized where he was. Wilbur’s eyes widened and he scrambled to grab the comm from his pocket, throwing it open to see the caller ID on the screen. His eyes grew impossibly wider when he realized it was Tubbo calling. 

He picked it up immediately, holding the comm up to his ear with bated breath. The other end had static and shuffling, but eventually, a voice came through. 

“Wilbur…?” Came Tubbo’s whispered voice, sounding low and somewhat shaky, though there was little fear in the words. Wilbur sighed as he heard the voice, shaking his head a bit. 

“Tubbo, I’m so glad you’re alright,” Wilbur said, relief seeping into his voice. “How are you, are you alright? What’s- How are you, Tubbo?” 

The teen took in a shuddering breath on the other end, as though preparing himself for death row. 

“I’m fine, Wilbur. I- Where are you?” He asked, voice shaking at the end of his sentence. As the question registered to Wilbur, he remembered just why Tubbo wasn’t there with them, and grew wary as a result. 

“What do you think of Schlatt, Tubbo? Do you- What’s your stance?” The teen’s answer was near-immediate after he spoke, coming quickly, almost desperately. 

“I don’t like him, Wilbur, He’s- He’s making us take down the walls, everything’s going wrong. I don’t know what to do, and FUndy even burnt down the flag, I don’t-” 

“Fundy _what_?” Wilbur asked, a ball of emotion clogging his throat as his grip almost grew slack on the comm. Tubbo sighed through the other end and Wilbur could hear his expression as he spoke. 

“... Everything’s gone to shit, Wilbur. I want L’manberg back. Schlatt’s renamed it like- Like Manburg or something, it’s gross. I don’t want to be here,” Tubbo said, sincerity dampening his tone heavily. Wilbur was still speechless, unsure what to say to what he had said. 

“Fundy burnt the flag,” Wilbur said numbly into the comm, listening to the shuffle of static on the other end. Tubbo sighed warily. 

“I’m sorry, Wilbur, I really am,” Tubbo said softly. Wilbur gave himself one more minute to grieve before he pushed the feeling of betrayal and hurt and agony aside to focus on Tubbo once more. Tubbo, who missed them and L’manberg and wouldn’t betray us. 

“...Well, it’s a bit too late to get you out of there, I think. I’m pretty sure he made you the VP or something, maybe just a cabinet man. But- But you can still help, I think. You can… You can spy for us, yes! Like we tried to get Jack to do for us in the first war.” There was another bit of static before Tubbo hummed a positive into the comm. 

“Yeah, I can do that. Where are you guys staying?” Tubbo asked again, a bit more desperate. Despite the teen’s confirmation that he had missed L’manberg and was ready to spy for them, Wilbur’s mind looped back to Fundy. Fundy, who burnt the flag down, who tore the walls down, Fundy who- Who- 

“I’ll figure out where it is later. Tommy might know better, I… I was shot down on the way there, I had to make my way there like, half-lucid.” 

“You died?” Tubbo asked, his tone a bit horrified. “Like, creeper explosion died or… Or Control Room died?”

“Control Room died,” Wilbur confirmed blankly. There was a sharp intake of breath through the other end of the comm before Tubbo spoke again. 

“I’ll ask Tommy for the coords later. I hope you’ll be okay, big man.” Wilbur laughed slightly at the words from the teen, finding the nickname a bit funny amid such a serious conversation. 

“You stay safe, too, Tubbo. Be a good spy,” Wilbur parted with him, clicking the disconnect button on his comm before he looked at the screen, frozen for a few minutes as he registered the conversation in his mind. A frown tugged his lips down again and he wished he could forget what Tubbo had told him completely. 

“Fundy burned the flag,” Wilbur murmured to himself, blinking hard as he stared at the sun, slowly rising from the horizon. “He burned the flag. Fundy, my… My champion, he-” 

Where had Wilbur gone wrong with Fundy? Where had he failed as a father, where had things gone so horribly sideways? What had forced Fundy to feel like his only option was to go against him in the elections as well as burning down the flag of what he had called home? Wilbur had always thought that he had done good for Fundy, giving him a home when he had none and giving him something to fight for when he found the child about to die alone. Wilbur always thought he had done alright. 

Maybe it was his bond with Tommy or something along those lines. Fundy might have felt left out, or the teen was going through his rebellious phase. Maybe Fundy was just lashing out because he was growing into his skin more. Wilbur didn’t know, he didn’t want to hurt Fundy. He only wanted the best for the fox after Sally had left the two of them to go and chased dreams on the Seven Seas. 

It was always hard, raising a child on his own. It was something strange, something overwhelming. On late nights when he had been trying to live like he did before the child would cry and ask for Sally and Wilbur was only ever reminded that he had lost his partner and the only person who he felt would understand his need for people and family. 

Sally had been swept away by the promise of adventure and liveliness and everything happy. Wilbur had been happy to indulge that for a few years, but when they had found Fundy, wrapped up in a blanket and abandoned in a box, Wilbur had made the choice to stay behind for him. Sally had tried to do the same and Wilbur appreciated her for that, but one day, he had awoken and found her things gone and the smell of sea salt following her as she left the home. 

It was the worst day of Wilbur’s life, probably. Tommy had noticed how distraught he was and it took a long time for the teen to realize that the Sally he always spoke about never showed up in his stories anymore. There was a small part of him that wondered if that was why Tommy was so willing to start up L’manberg with him, despite how he always wanted to be free and happy and out there with Tubbo, who he had met when they had settled on those lands. 

Maybe this was Wilbur’s fault. 

The man sighed, staring as the sun stopped touching the horizon and made its way further up the sky. A few hours had passed, but strangely enough, it felt like no time had passed at all. If he blinked, then he could pretend that he had been with Sally just a minute ago, sea salt and the happy yipping of a fox hybrid in his home. 

* * *

Their message back from Techno came back the same day that he did, funnily enough. 

Tommy thought it was a great show of just how slow the mail could be when all of it was delivered but fucking birds, but it was good to hear back nonetheless. For a brief minute, he had been frightened that Techno would leave them to flounder for help and fail in their attempts as he did when they were kids waiting for Phil to come back. It was why the sight of a large snowy owl flying through the deciduous forest it was incredibly out of place in. 

It certainly was something jarring to see, taking Tommy back to the times of the Antarctic Empire and SMP Earth, where the wars were lighthearted and he had met so many of the people he looked up to now. The Antarctic Empire, as the name alluded to, lived in the arctic. The method of using birds to send messages wasn’t as common back then, but it had been something that the Antarctic Empire loved using. 

Maybe it was something about the aesthetics of it. Tommy remembered that Phil had been fond of them, though he only ever fought with them. It was just weird, to see him in the SMP Earth lands after spending so many years despising him for never coming back. After Tommy had found them there, he had almost immediately told Wilbur, who froze up before he had tried to figure out what was going on. 

In the end, after a lot of fighting and misunderstandings and wars and world-claiming, the group of them had grown a bit closer. Phil talked to them now and then and Techno teased Tommy like he was a younger brother. Wilbur had connected with Techno once more, but Phil always seemed distant. When SMP Earth eventually fell apart, Wilbur fled with Tommy after he had met a sailor named Sally, the woman taking them across seas with a blinding smile that Wilbur had fallen for (Ugh, love). 

The point was, as sidetracked as the little monologue Tommy had built in his head, Techno’s help was not expected, and the relief at seeing that stupid snowy owl was immeasurable. 

The large, proud bird landed on his arm as Tommy held it up, catching sight of it above ground and immediately calling it over. The owl seemed to have recognized him, flying down to land on his arm carefully. Its claws bit into the sweater that had pooled over his arm, Tommy wincing at its sharp talons. It held a large pouch around its feet and it ruffled out its feathers happily. Tommy wondered if it needed a preening, remembering Phil’s bird brain instincts that would leave him to melt in a pile of mush when they cleaned through his feathers after a long enough trip away from home. 

He shrugged that thought off, fishing the letter off of its leg and patting it on the head with his fingers, brushing through feathers carefully. It fluttered under his touch before making a cooing noise and pressing its head against his hand firmly. A bit of fondness for the creature melted Tommy’s heart, making conversation with the owl.

“What’s your name, big guy?” Tommy asked softly, the owl looking at him and _hooing_ like he had been answering. 

“That’s a shit name. I’m renaming you. You can be…” Tommy trailed off, watching the owl as it looked back at him with big, amber eyes. As he stared into its pupils, he came up with a good name, grinning. 

“Spots!” He decided with a smile on his face. “It’s funny ‘cause you’re completely white, I think. But that’s a stupid reason, wait, nevermind.” Tommy quickly changed his mind, not wanting to joke around with the owl. There was a bitter tinge of nostalgia that hit his heart hard and he blinked at the owl before speaking again. 

“Birdza, maybe,” He said, his voice lower as he watched the owl peck at its wings, half-spread with one leg hiked up slightly. Tommy chuckled softly, petting its head again before lifting his arm up to the sky. “Off you go, then.” 

After a moment, it looked at him before flying off, leaving his arm a lot lighter than it was beforehand. Tommy watched it fly off until it was nothing but a speck in the sky and then gone completely. Tommy blinked away wetness in his eyes before he looked at the letter he pulled out of the pouch, unfolding the paper that had been folded into fourths. It was a yellowed paper that wasn’t in an envelope, saving space, Tommy inferred. His eyes flicked over the words scrawled in neat print, a response to Wilbur’s words that he hadn’t read. 

> _Dear Wilbur,_
> 
> _It’s good to hear from you again. I’m sorry to have not responded to your older messages, it truly is a regret of mine that I’ve become so busy that I can’t make time for the people I hold dear to me anymore. I hope you know that I have missed you, despite how I never really say it out loud. It’s always easier through writing, after all, I don’t know what I would do if you read this out loud. Doesn’t even sound like me most of the time, I sound like some stuck-up person that was some stupid English scholar. Though I’m not far off, English major and all._
> 
> _I got a bit off-track, sorry. I would ask how you are, but I know that things have been bad for you. I read most of your letters, you know, even if I only responded to a couple of them. L’manberg sounded good for you, at least for a bit. I was surprised to hear of the election, however. I never expected to hear that from you, or someone who had been so loved by the people around him. Is Tommy okay? If this letter comes before I can, please send one back, I want to know._
> 
> _Of course, I can come to help. I’m sorry I didn’t come earlier, like when you invited me to the elections in the first place. I really didn’t mean to skip off on that. Things have been hectic here, you probably wouldn’t believe it if I told you. Tommy would probably find it kind of funny. Then again, he’s a strange type, and I dunno what I would do if I had to deal with him for that long. I’m glad you have him now, though._
> 
> _I’ll be coming over as soon as I can, and I’ll be bringing along some company. He’s great, really. You probably won’t trust him at first, but I promise he is reliable. He’s my only protegee, I wouldn’t have invited him to come along if he was an idiot. Besides, you sound like you need all the help you can get. I can confidently say that I have not tried to get rid of a government before, but I am completely behind it if you do want that and I approve of the anarchism route you’re taking._
> 
> _I’ll see you shortly, hope you’ll be okay for now._
> 
> _Signed,_
> 
> _Techno Hera Blade, Blood God of Hypixel_
> 
> _PS. Forgot that this wasn’t a formal letter and I signed it off normally. Now I look stupid. Don’t want to rewrite it though, so don’t speak of this to anyone._

Tommy gave something of a disbelieving laugh as he finished reading the letter. He scanned over it again, as though the words would disappear or morph into his true thoughts. Surely Techno would not want to help them in their plight against Schlatt, surely he didn’t care enough for Wilbur or Tommy to go through a war like that for them. But at the same time, it was the snowy owl. It was Techno in the words he read, no one could completely copy his formal writing and the brief hints of comedy that he would add into the little paragraphs in between. Most of the impersonators always made him too serious, anyway. 

Tommy looked at the letter in his hands before looking back at the entrance of Pogtopia. Wilbur had come back to bed in the morning and laid down on the floor next to where Tommy slept. He had shaken the man a bit, but he merely mumbled under his breath before he rolled over and buried his face into the dirt. Upon closer look, Tommy spied tear tracks on the man’s face and his heart squeezed. 

Now, though, it had been about three hours since then, around noon. The teen made his way over, shaking Wilbur awake. Wilbur blinked slowly as he came to, confused and sleep-addled. 

“Techno replied,” Tommy said bluntly, shoving the letter in his hands. The words woke Wilbur up considerably, the man sitting up with widened eyes before he held a grip on the letter that looked as though it would tear through the paper. Tommy worried for a moment, though his worry was completely swayed when his comm buzzed. Wilbur didn’t even glance at his, though Tommy’s eyes widened as he saw the two notifications on the comm. 

_Technoblade has joined the game._

_Ranboo has joined the game._

Tommy didn’t even stop to think about what the other name was, tunnel-visioning on the first name on the comm. He yelped, getting up as he made his way to dig through the chest of things they had amassed. 

“Techno’s- He’s _here,_ Wilbur! I’ll go get him from spawn, I’ll-” 

“Yes, yes, yes, get him, go get him! Fast, quick, before the others can,” Wilbur interrupted, panic in his voice as he got up from where he was sitting, pushing back his mop of hair in a half-assed attempt to look better. Tommy nodded, putting on the set of diamond armour he had as fast as he could before he grabbed a sword and the skeleton horse they had stolen. 

Tommy pulled it out of the pit they had hidden it in, grabbing it by the reins and getting on its spindly back as fast as possible. His legs nearly slipped through its ribcage before Tommy urged him on, hitting his feet against the thing’s sides. It neighed in a ghostly howl before it reared upwards and ran off. Adrenaline was rushing through Tommy like nothing else, making Tommy blind to any questions that fleeted through his mind with little to no afterthought from him. 

The trees slowly shifted from deciduous to the evergreens that surrounded spawn. Eventually, Tommy reached the wood, dirt, and cobblestone mound that had surrounded the spawn area. He got off the horse, leaving it tied to a branch nearby as he scrambled to climb over the wall.

“Techno? Techno, where are you? I’m here, hurry up, bitch! We’re _criminals!_ ” Tommy called, nerves seeping into his voice slowly as the teen looked around for him. 

“I’m over here, Tommy, behind the trees! Where are you?” Techno’s response came. Tommy had to stop himself from freezing up completely at the sound of his voice and making a fool of himself. He looked through the trees before he finally found the man, freezing up at the sight of it. 

Techno was the same as he remembered, but different as well. He still looked like Techno, with crimson eyes and pink hair that looked so nicely dyed that it was natural. He still looked to play the part of a king, but he was intrinsically different as well. For one, his glasses were gone, and his pink hair was short rather than the long braid he kept it in. There was a mask he had pushed away from his face that was new to Tommy, and his attire looked much redder than the blue it had been when he had been in the Antarctic Empire. He still had his large red cape, however, and after a moment, he fixed the mask upon his face, crown on his head as well. 

As he saw the man’s new look, he became reminded of the second message on his comm and a foreign fear filled him as a result. 

“Techno, what the- Who was the other guy who joined, who was that? Where are they, did they follow you here, what-” Tommy’s rambling was cut off after a moment, Techno clearing up the confusion with a wave of his hand as he strode forward. 

“He’s my protege, I mentioned him in my letter. I’m sure Wilbur’ll tell you when he reads it. Let’s go, you said we were in a hurry,” Techno brushed his worry off quickly, Tommy following after as fast as he could. 

“You can’t just say something like that and just go, what the- _Mimimimi, my name is Technoblade and I have a- a pro-two-jay-_ Technoblade, what the-” 

“I’ll explain later, Tommy. Where’s Pogtopia, or whatever the place is called?” Tommy blinked slowly at the words before he got up, looking at the man before he went to the tree that he had tied his skeleton horse to. He reached up to grab at the reins he had tied to the branch, catching sight of something in black in the corner of his eyes. 

“ _What the fuck?!_ ” Tommy screeched, staring back at a mask and a creature in the tree that looked too close to Dream for him to be comfortable. Except he wasn’t in lime green, and his mask wasn’t one of a smiley face. It was more like a demon’s mask, in the shape of Dream’s with small horns out the top. It was split half and half in the middle, one side black with slits for eyes and no mouth where Dream’s would have one. 

That and the attire the creature wore was black save for the dress shirt, which looked like one of Techno’s fancy ruffled ones, though it was blocked by a cape around his shoulders that reached about his mid-back. It tilted its head as it looked at him before one black-gloved hand reached to grab at a tree branch and after barely five seconds of maneuvering the branches for him to get to the next, traversing through the pine needles to make his way in the direction Tommy came from. It looked back at Tommy, as though waiting, and Tommy jumped as Techno came up behind him. 

“Dramatic,” The man mumbled under his breath, staring at the black creature. After about a moment, Tommy put two and two together before he looked at Techno again and grumbled, pulling the horse on his reins. 

“Stupid fucking Techno pro-two-jays, I hate these fucking…” Tommy’s words trailed off as Techno got on the skeleton horse, offering a hand for him to take that Tommy took wordlessly. He hauled himself up onto the back of the horse before he sat on the back, hesitating before wrapping his arms around Techno’s middle. The man froze slightly at the movement before he held the reins with a confident grip, clearing his throat. 

“Where’s Pogtopia?” He repeated, speaking as he usually would in times of war and stress. It was reminiscent of SMP Earth times and Tommy rattled off the coords before he could forget. It seemed that the protege who Techno had brought along heard him, as they immediately ran through the trees and made their way to the ravine.

Eventually, they reached the small home with no interruptions, save for the constant buzz of their comms, Techno’s newly activated to the new lands. They had a small altercation with Eret that lasted all of a minute before Tommy let it rush by his head in an adrenaline-filled haze. 

Techno stopped the horse in front of the small hill, furrowing his eyebrows for a moment before he looked up in the trees and saw his protege sitting in the trees. He relaxed slightly, Tommy frowning at the reaction. What did this guy have that made _the_ Technoblade of all people relax? 

After a moment of waiting, the dirt mound was pushed aside by Wilbur, who saw Techno with wide eyes. He didn’t stop to register the changes Techno had in his appearance, reaching forward with two arms to grab him in a tight hug. Techno stiffened for a moment before he returned the gesture, wrapping his arms around him comfortably. He moved his mask to the side a bit, cradling his head in one hand that looked so comforting that a flash of jealousy filled Tommy for a moment. 

The protege that Techno brought along dropped silently from the trees, standing up on the mound that the small home was dug into. Wilbur pulled back from Techno a moment later, looking over him with wide eyes. 

“Techno, I- It’s so good to see you, I- Who’s the person you said you were going to bring along? Can you- How are you, man?” Techno fixed his mask on his face, looking past Wilbur slightly as he made eye contact- or looked at his protege in the mask. 

“He’s right behind you, actually.” Wilbur turned, making a startling noise as he looked up at the teen who crouched on the hill above him, tilting his head and waving with one hand. Wilbur held a hand to his chest, recovering from the shock before he looked back to Techno. 

“And- Who’s this?” He asked, a bit of a nervous chuckle in his voice. 

“Ranboo,” The teen on the mound answered, his voice deeper than Tommy expected. At the thought, Tommy spoke before his thoughts caught up with his mouth. 

“Were you born before or after April 2004?” Tommy asked, voice working on autopilot. Ranboo paused, facing him with his mouthless mask before answering after a minute of thinking. 

“Before, I think.” Tommy lit up for a second before he spoke up, delighted. 

“So you’re younger than me!” He said with a bit of pride in him as he said so. His hopes were crushed when Ranboo shook his head. 

“I think that makes me older, actually. By a couple months,” Rambo corrected. Tommy grimaced at the words, ready to shout before Wilbur cut in before he could get started. 

“I think we- We need to talk about plans, everyone just get inside,” Wilbur urged, pushing the skeleton horse into the hole carefully. Tommy nodded, making his way inside before Techno and Ranboo followed, Wilbur closing off the mound behind them. They made their way down the tight staircase before they walked into the open area of the ravine. 

Ranboo _oooed_ quietly at the sight, making his way down the stairs after Tommy. The teen grimaced at the sound, finding the new voice a bit confusing. It was something strange, really, after spending so long with people he knew for such a long time. Ranboo was someone new on the occasion and he didn’t know what to do about the fact that it was Techno who had brought him along, of all people. 

Tommy voiced that thought, in usual Tommy behaviour. 

“So, why the sudden change in company. Techno?” He asked once they reached the bottom, his tone coming off harsher than intended. 

Techno shrugged, looking around the ravine as he examined the nooks and crannies of the stone walls. Ranboo seemed to have wandered off slightly, though his ears- which Tommy had just noticed were pointed like an elf’s- were swivelled back to listen in to their conversation properly. 

“Found him a while back. Absolutely just wasting any potential he had, so I decided to invite him over-” 

“You call it an invite, I call it a kidnapping,” Ranboo chimed in from afar, one gloved hand running down the wall as if to feel the texture through his gloves. Techno huffed at the comment, as though it were something that they would argue about often. 

“It’s not a kidnapping because you weren’t a kid-” 

“You can’t use that logic, that’s like saying grown-ups can’t get kidnapped, but there are so many posters about it in Hypixel-” 

“Well, they’re using the wrong terminology, then.” 

“As opposed to what? Snatching? People snatching? That sounds stupid, doesn’t it? English majors, so caught up in grammar.” Techno sighed slightly, putting a hand over his face as though to facepalm. 

“Are you done?” He asked, deadpan as he looked up at Ranboo, who was hanging onto one of the stone ledges half-way up the walls of the ravine. Tommy watched as the teen nodded before he shook his head, reminding himself why they invited him in the first place. 

“Okay, well, if you’re done, we can start talking about plans, yes?” Wilbur clapped his hands together at the words, nodding at Tommy in a manner that made the teen preen a bit under the positive confirmation. 

“Yes, good point Tommy. I can get supplies for you, as well as draft up some plans to sneak into L’manberg and things like that since I know the layout. Tommy can help us get gear and cows and things like that because cows just fucking love him for no reason, you can… You still like potatoes, right?” Wilbur directed the last question to Techno, who nodded. 

“Awesome, that’s awesome, Technoblade. Take these-” He grabbed a worn bag from a chest nearby, tossing it to Techno, who caught it and pulled out a handful of raw potatoes- “You can grow a farm from those, and we’ll... Ranboo, was it? Ranboo, you can…” 

“I can get us good gear,” Ranboo suggested, volunteering himself for his own role in their plans. Wilbur nodded rapidly, a sharp smile on his face. 

“Yes, good, do that. We… It’s been a _day_ ,” Wilbur sighed, burying his face in his hands. Ranboo nodded, speaking up once more. 

“I’ll work on getting Netherite first off.” Tommy’s mind short-circuited at the words that were said so casually, his brain-to-mouth filter turning off. 

“You’re going to get _Netherite?_ Do we have time for that, what the fuck-?” 

Ranboo nodded instead of answering verbally, tilting his masked face to the side slightly. “Yeah, I’m good with stuff like that. Just need a place for enchantments and XP. I’m sure I’ll find both easily at a server like this. Most of the people I saw were in Netherite, after all.” The words baffled Tommy more, rather than clearing up his confusion. 

“When did you get a chance to see people, you were just at spawn?” Ranboo shrugged, hopping down from the stone ledge and standing up straight, towering over the group of them. 

“I’m sneaky,” He answered. It sounded like a joke, but the teen didn’t look like he was joking as he strode past them to look through their chests. “Do you mind if I use your iron stuff to start off?” 

“Yeah, sure, go ahead,” Wilbur answered instead of Tommy, who would have agreed with him anyway. “Just bring it back.” 

Ranboo snorted a bit, as though it were a funny question. “Oh, I will.” 

Tommy didn’t really know what he meant, but most things about Ranboo seemed confusing. The teen was someone who looked dangerous, yet bantered with Techno as though he were an old friend. It was whiplash that he wasn’t ready for, and the teen didn’t hesitate to go back to Techno as his attention was grabbed by his pseudo-older brother figure. 

“So you’re really here to help? And you really brought someone along?” Techno looked back at him with a small huff, as though he were being silly. 

“Well, we’re here in front of you, aren’t we?” Techno asked, meaning for it to be rhetorical. 

Tommy was nothing if he was naive, though, and he knew it would be a bit too hopeful to say that he hadn’t thought once that he was hallucinating the entire scene. As Techno turned around, he looked back in the direction Ranboo had gone.

There was a lot to unpack, and Tommy didn’t think he had the time for it now. All he really wanted was to sleep as the sun began to set, so he made his way back up the tight staircase and laid in the bed by the mound, staring up at the dirt ceiling until he finally blacked out. It was a quick escape from a painful reality. 

**Author's Note:**

> hello :) for once in my life, i have planned out a fic and then gone through with it. i am like super excited for this and its my favourite thing ever right now so i hope youll enjoy it!! sorry if the tags r messy i want to get everything in there, and they will be updated as i go along. 
> 
> i rlly hope u guys like this, feel free to tell me what u thought of the first chapter! almost all of them r gonna be this long so it might take a while to update but im happy bout it nonetheless <333


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